


Rough Around the Edges

by MoonlightBreeze



Series: Febuwhump 2021 [14]
Category: Leverage
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Autistic Parker (Leverage), Eliot Spencer Angst, Eliot Spencer-centric, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, FebuWhump2021, Guilt, Gun Violence, I just finished the finale and I have FEELINGS, Mentions of Past Murder, Multi, OT3, Past Violence, Self-Hatred, Trauma, basically I'm angsting Eliot and his past, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-17 18:08:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29475972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonlightBreeze/pseuds/MoonlightBreeze
Summary: Sometimes Eliot has a hard time convincing himself that he deserves to be loved and treated like a person instead of something else entirely. Luckily, Parker and Hardison are good at reminding him.Or, Eliot is learning how to ask for help. Parker and Hardison are great teachers.Febuwhump Day 14 - "I didn't mean it"Warnings for past violence (including gun violence and mentions of murder), guilt and self-blame, trauma/hints of PTSD, and a lot of self-hatred. Please keep yourselves safe! <3
Relationships: Alec Hardison/Parker/Eliot Spencer
Series: Febuwhump 2021 [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2138970
Comments: 8
Kudos: 43





	Rough Around the Edges

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, guys! This is a day late because I spent my Sabbath binge watching Leverage and forgot I'm in the middle of a prompt challenge. The 14th's prompt (this one) is: "I didn't mean it!" This fic is also the culmination of my extremely angsty feelings about Eliot from quite a few episodes in season five, and I'm sure it won't be the last of its kind. 
> 
> Also, if you're looking for new shows to watch - I recommend Leverage with my entire heart and soul. This show has actually taken my life force in the best possible way, if you know what I mean. I just finished the finale and I have FEELINGS.
> 
> Warnings for past violence (Eliot's past), guilt and self-blame for said past, trauma with hints of PTSD, and a lot of self-hatred. Please keep your lovely selves safe! <3
> 
> With that being said, I really hope you enjoy this! Kudos make my day and comments validate my existence, so please feel free to leave those, if you want :) And, as always, I hope you have a wonderful day/night!
> 
> ~ Em

It had taken Eliot a long time to realise that he could ask. 

After a tough job or a long day or a bad nightmare, he could ask for what he wanted, and Parker and Hardison would give it to him. If he asked for space, they would step away. If he asked for a hug, they would hold him tighter than he’d ever been held before. If he asked for _them_ \- nothing more, nothing less - they would be right where they always were. 

Parker and Hardison knew that Eliot had trouble asking, didn’t think he deserved it, and sometimes Eliot didn’t ask and sometimes it was just like old times when he didn’t _have_ anybody to ask. Sometimes Eliot spent the nights alone when he could’ve had company, the warmth of two bodies beside his that loved and cared for him, unlike the dead soldiers in his dream or the enemy combatants flooding his memories. 

No, it wasn’t perfect, but that was the beauty of it all. _Life_ wasn’t perfect, and Eliot had never wanted perfect, anyway. He just wanted _good_. He wanted home. He wanted peace. 

Parker and Hardison? They were home. They were peace. And they were both so good that it hurt Eliot to think about sometimes. 

It wasn’t often, anymore, not with _Better or worse, we change together_ and _‘Til my dying day_ soothing the rough corners of his mind, that Eliot was alone, but sometimes not even Parker or Hardison could give Eliot what he needed. Sometimes Eliot needed to back himself into a corner of the bedroom, hands over his ears as he remembered children with blood on their clothes and screams of _I didn’t mean it!_ and _No, please, **don’t!**_ and the smell of death surrounding him. Sometimes it was the only thing that could convince Eliot this was real, that this was happening, that he’d really been lucky enough to get a second chance after everything he’d done and he wasn’t just hallucinating and wishing for something he didn’t deserve in some enemy’s basement again. 

He could never hope to explain that to Parker or Hardison; they would want to help, want to do _something_ to keep him from torturing himself like this, but there was nothing they could do. Eliot had to want their help for it to work, and sometimes all he wanted was a reminder that the person he wished he could see in the mirror every morning was someone he’d never see again. 

It was sad, but it was true. 

Still, despite that, despite _everything_ , Parker and Hardison went out of their way to show Eliot that he could ask, always, and that they would listen. All three of them had bad associations with touching other people. Hardison would hug and kiss and cuddle, but that was it; Parker had told them once that sometimes touching people made her feel like her skin was burning off, and Eliot was, well, Eliot. 

That was why Eliot knew they were perfect for him; they understood when they could touch and when they couldn’t, even if the reason they couldn’t wasn’t the reason that they would prefer it be. None of them minded giving Parker her space after a rough job, when she was overloaded and would have screamed if anyone touched her. That was never a problem. What _was_ a problem, Eliot knew, was him and the way he locked himself in their bedroom to shake apart under some sick, twisted belief that he deserved it and some sick, twisted reality check to make sure he wasn’t just dreaming and wishing _again_. (Parker looked a lot like Aimee, his mind was always saying.)

Sometimes he wished Parker and Hardison weren’t quite so respectful, so _good_ , because the reality checks _hurt_ , and Eliot was so damn tired of hurting. 

It had taken a long time to realise that all he had to do, all he _ever_ had to do if he wanted it, was ask. 

Even if he was crying and screaming and trembling on the floor of their shared bedroom, desperately trying to convince himself that this was real and it wasn’t a trick and he _deserved_ this, all he had to do was ask for them and they would be there. 

Asking was terrifying, but slowly and surely, Eliot thought he might be learning. 

~ ~ ~

All of them, including Eliot himself, tried their hardest to keep guns out of Eliot’s hands, but sometimes, just like with Moreau’s men so long ago, Eliot was forced to kill again and those days were always the worst. His hands trembled afterwards, shaking in Hardison’s when he held them on the way back to the office after their job was complete. His tears were silent, dampening his cheeks while Parker wiped them away. It was weakness, Eliot knew that, but after being strong for so long, maybe he deserved a little of that. 

“You okay?” Hardison asked when they made it back to the office, sitting on the sofa together with their bodies tangled into one. Eliot closed his eyes and tried to nod, but he didn’t want to lie to Hardison. 

Parker scooted closer and kissed each of his cheeks, stroking a gentle finger underneath Eliot’s right eye. “No, you’re not,” she murmured, and more tears sprang to Eliot’s eyes at her words. “But that’s what we’re here for.”

She climbed over Hardison’s lap so that she could sit on Eliot’s other side, effectively cocooning him in the middle of her and Hardison. She didn’t try to hug him, not yet, because he hadn’t said she could, but Eliot could tell that she wanted to. 

“What do you need?” Hardison asked, and Eliot blew out a hard breath, trying to think. His mind was screaming at him, reminding him of all the names and faces and all of the ones who didn’t have names and barely had faces left after what their captors had done to them. Eliot wanted to retreat, wanted to hide, and it was all he could do to keep from shoving the others away and locking himself in their bedroom again. 

“You don’t know,” Eliot said quietly, so quietly that he was almost sure Parker and Hardison wouldn’t hear him. “You don’t know what I’ve done.” It was a true enough statement; Eliot had never shared all the details of his past with them, and they had never asked. 

“That doesn’t matter,” Parker said calmly, almost as if she was expecting him to say that. “It doesn’t matter what you’ve done, not to us. You’re still our Eliot. You’re still _you_.”

Eliot had to choke back tears at her statement, because that was just it, wasn’t it? He _was_ him, and who he was was exactly the problem. He didn’t _understand_ , didn’t _get it_ , how someone like them could love someone like him. How they could ever think he was clean, think he was _good_ , knowing that he had done things that would make them both sick. 

“You aren’t a bad person, Eliot,” Hardison murmured. “Good people do bad things all the time.”

“Do good people kill innocent people?” Eliot asked, a bit rhetorically but he knew the others would answer, anyway. “Do good people take someone’s family, kill them all, just because they didn’t pay a debt?” He shook his head, tears sliding down his cheeks, and shut his eyes tightly, too afraid of the way that Parker and Hardison would look at him after this. “How can you say that? How can you _ever_ say that? I’m not a good person. I’m _not_.” 

It was quiet for a few seconds, and Eliot thought _this is it_ , _they finally see me for who I am_ , but then warm hands were cupping his face and soft lips were on his cheeks, kissing away the tear tracks, and he was surrounded by Parker and Hardison and he could _feel_ their love, and half of him couldn’t believe it. 

The other half wanted to wrap them in his arms and never let go, keep them safe until he couldn’t any longer, love them until none of them had any more love left to give. 

“Eliot,” Hardison murmured, and Eliot let his eyes open, his heart pounding with fear, but what he saw on their faces was _love_. It was care, it was hope, and it was acceptance. Eliot didn’t bother to try to stop the tears from coming anymore. 

They stayed like that for a few minutes, quiet sails on little lifeboats in Eliot’s storm, until Eliot took a deep breath and spoke up. 

“Will you stay?”

“Always,” Hardison promised. 

“Always,” Parker promised. 

Eliot felt himself smile, the feeling foreign on his lips. He loved them. They loved him. It couldn’t get any simpler than that. 

Sometimes Eliot still locked himself in their bedroom, and sometimes it was still bad when it could have been good, but he was learning. Sometimes he still forgot how to ask and sometimes he still forgot he _could_ ask, but he was learning. They would get there. Eliot knew he had two people that loved him more than words to show for that skill, and he would spend the rest of his days telling them that they had taught him how to ask, and they would spend the rest of their days teaching him more and more and loving him when he felt like he wasn’t capable of being loved by anyone ever again. 

It was always a little rough around the edges, but then, so was Eliot. Parker and Hardison didn’t mind. They had never minded. They had always seen straight through Eliot to the heart he carried underneath, and they both agreed that it was beautiful. He was beautiful. 

Sometimes the things that were the roughest around the edges were the prettiest beneath the layers, and Eliot was no exception. 

**Author's Note:**

> [Stalk me on Tumblr](https://moonlight-breeze-44.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Prompts are open!
> 
> Want to scream about Leverage with other fans? [Join the multifandom Discord server](https://discord.gg/82pvdE39fD) I run with my friends! We welcome everyone, and we would love to have you. <3


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